


Shadow My Soul

by Little_Wings



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Angels, Come Inflation, Demons, Double Penetration, Explicit Sexual Content, Inflation, Kinks, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Monsters, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Rimming, Size Difference, Spitroasting, bulging, mild aphrodisiac
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-11-09 06:01:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20848673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Wings/pseuds/Little_Wings
Summary: Harry is a sacrifice to appease the devil's wrath. Lord Voldemort, the king of hell, has never seen such a pure soul, and he can't wait to corrupt it.





	1. The sacrifice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CoffeeTeaAndMe (kurofu)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurofu/gifts).

Lord Voldemort slowed his thrusts as the array in front of his throne began to glow, brighter than it ever had before. He kept a hand on the head of the soul currently pierced by his cock, but already his attention was caught by the newest arrival in the depths of hell.

Pure and untouched by darkness, this soul was wreathed in such goodness that for a moment Voldemort wondered why it had come to him.

And then he looked at the array.

Ah.

Sacrifice.

Sent by none other than the old fool, in the hopes of quelling his ire.

Voldemort grinned, his teeth sharp. As if he could ever be appeased. As if his wrath could ever be tamed.

Of course that did not mean that he would reject such a delicious sacrifice.

Standing slowly, Voldemort pulled the tortured soul from his cock and flung it to the side, ignoring the way it screamed, one of its eye sockets black and bleeding. He was still hard, his cock red with blood and gore, but in the face of this newest arrival, he did not particularly care.

With each step his features changed, his claws retreated, his form shrank, until he was no more than seven feet in height. He looked mostly human in this form, with handsome features that tended to put new souls at ease.

Kneeling, he picked up the glowing soul and cradled it to his chest. It was resting still, most likely exhausted from the trauma and journey it had undergone. He breathed in its light, crisp scent. Voldemort smiled then, a cold and cruel expression. He wondered if Dumbledore knew what he was giving away. What he was sacrificing.

It was an old soul. One that had been reborn numerous times. But even after so many lives, it remained pure. If it survived this encounter with Tom unscathed, it would ascend to sainthood.

Voldemort eyed the soul hungrily. A purer soul he had never seen. Not a speck of darkness marred its brilliance. And it came to him so willingly, the noble sacrifice sent to appease his eternal fury.

The demon lord’s eyes flashed a vivid red. He would take this soul and keep it. He would taint it slowly. Corrupt it. And one day he would have the most formidable weapon at his side.

Because the purest souls fell the hardest.

He deposited the soul in his chambers, laying it on smooth, black sheets. Slowly the soul’s form began to firm, the glow fading as the body solidified into that of a young man, perhaps just over two decades in age, with a mop of wild black hair and delicate features. His skin was lightly tanned, though it looked particularly pale against the dark sheets.

Voldemort traced a path up the soul’s leg, dipping to the front of his hips, before tracing up the chest and finally resting upon his cheek, stroking the smooth skin.

He did so love fresh souls, so perfect, unblemished, ripe for corruption. And this one… Oh, this one would be his grandest victory. For normally, with a mere touch, the demon king could spread darkness throughout a soul, corrupting it with ease. For all souls held sin. Even just the smallest trace of darkness was enough to enter, to bend and warp the soul to his will.

Except for this one.

With no trace of shadow in the soul, Voldemort would have to make the boy fall. Make him crave what only Voldemort could give. Make him beg, plead for it. Make him crave the chance to fall to darkness.

A smile played upon his lips as he imagined the boy, once so bright and pure, reshaped to perfection. Finally corrupted - finally his.

He wasn’t sure how long he waited for the boy to wake, but really, time had no meaning here, so it did not truly matter. Still, he leaned back, pleased, when the soul finally began to stir, soft breaths moving the chest, fingers twitching, eyes moving beneath fluttering eyelashes.

There was no real need for the body to breathe - it was simply a manifestation of the soul’s personality, but it took a while for the souls to learn such a thing.

Voldemort shifted so that he was sitting a little further down on the bed, giving the awakening soul a sense of space. He smiled when glazed green eyes met his. Ah, but what a perfect shade they were, vivid as life itself.

“Welcome,” he crooned, eyes lidding in satisfaction as the soul moved to sit up, blinking sleepily as it looked around. It did not look particularly intimidated by him, but that worked in his favour this time.

“Hello,” the soul replied, voice soft, eyes slowly clearing the longer he looked around. “I - who are you? Where am I? I thought I - “ He frowned there, uncertainty crossing his features.

“Call me… Tom,” Voldemort’s smile widened. “What’s your name, sweet soul?”

“Oh,” green eyes blinked. “I’m Harry. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Oh no,” Voldemort purred. “The pleasure is all mine, I assure you.”

Harry blushed a little and looked down, then blushed further upon realizing that he was completely naked. He glanced again at Voldemort, then did a double take when he noticed that the demon was also naked and - Harry squeaked, the flush travelling down his neck. Because Voldemort was naked, and still very, very hard.

Chuckling, the demon shifted to hide most of his erection from view. “We do not bother with clothes, here. There is no need for them.” He allowed his eyes to drift across Harry’s body, smirking when Harry curled up as if to hide himself. “You’ll get used to it,” Voldemort assured him.

Looking unconvinced, Harry nonetheless nodded. “Right,” he said. “And… um, where am I?”

“My home,” Voldemort replied. “I found you collapsed in front of me. So I brought you here until you recovered.”

“Oh,” Harry frowned again. “But… I… died. I’m sure of it. I was a sacrifice. I should have been brought to the King of Hell. It’s - it’s important that I’m brought before him.”

Voldemort wanted to coo. How sweet and noble. How disgustingly altruistic. Oh, how he longed to wring such selflessness from the soul’s very being. “Have no fear, nothing passes through the gates of Hell without his knowledge. But you are safe here. I will make sure of it.”

“O-oh, but - “

“Hush, you only just woke up. You must be tired. Hungry. Would you like some food?”

Eventually all souls in hell realized that they did not truly need such luxuries, but newly descended and still used to the demands of a human body, Harry nodded. “I am. Hungry, that is. If… if you don’t mind…”

Voldemort smiled. “Of course.” He stood, enjoying the way Harry averted his eyes from his naked form. “Come,” he said, holding out a hand. Slowly, Harry reached out and took it, his hand dwarfed by Voldemort’s. With a jerk of his arm, Harry fell forward and into his arms. Sweeping him up, he carried him to the nearby table. There was only one chair, and Voldemort sat, then settled Harry on his lap. He held him close with one arm, Harry’s back flush with his chest. With the other, he snapped his fingers, and a large assortment of dishes appeared in front of them.

Sat upon his lap, Harry squirmed, face red as he felt the heat of Voldemort’s cock pressing into the crease of his ass and up his back.

“I - I can sit by myself,” he protested.

Voldemort merely chuckled. “There is only one chair, sweet soul. Have no fear, I do not mind sharing.”

Harry made a noise of protest, but Voldemort held a grape to his lips, silencing any further complaints as the boy opened his lips and accepted the fruit.

It broke open in his mouth with a crisp sound, and Harry exhaled contentedly, chewing the sweet fruit quickly before swallowing and looking eagerly at what else lay in front of him.

Slowly, leisurely, Voldemort fed him. First the fruit, then the bread and cheeses. And finally…

“Here,” Voldemort murmured as he held up a small piece of cake dripping in a syrupy black sauce. “Try this,I think you will like it.”

Harry opened his mouth obediently to accept the morsel. He had relaxed significantly since Voldemort had first brought him to the table, and seemed to have forgotten that both of them were naked. That Voldemort’s cock was hard and pulsing between them.

Moaning at the taste, Harry chewed and swallowed before licking his lips and glancing up at Voldemort hopefully. Not once, the demon king was pleased to note, had the boy tried to reach for any of the food himself. A smart soul, this was.

“Just the one,” Voldemort informed the boy, who sighed dejectedly. “It is a special treat, that one. But there will be more for you next time, if you’re good. I’ll always give you what you need.”

Harry’s eyes lit up. Then he faltered. “If I’m - “ he started, only to squeak in surprise as he was lifted yet again into Voldemort’s arms.

“Come,” the demon king said. “Let us bathe.”

Yet another unnecessary luxury. Not that dear, sweet Harry knew that. Yet. The boy would learn, when Voldemort wished for him to.

The large tub was already full when they entered the bathroom, and Voldemort stepped into the water, settling them both down on the ledge so that they were partially submerged in the water. A cloud of red spread from his body as the water cleared off much of the dried blood coating his body.

He kept Harry in his lap even as he handed him a cloth. “Go ahead,” he smiled, staring down at the sweet soul.

Harry took the scrub with a tentative hand, filling it with soap before running it along his arms, across his torso, and - he skirted the place between his legs, his face flushing a little as Voldemort rested his hands low on his hips.

“Don’t be shy, now,” Voldemort chuckled into Harry’s ear. The soul shivered despite the hot water. “You shouldn’t neglect your hygiene just because I’m watching. Unless - you need help?”

“H-Help?” Harry squeaked, twisting to glance up in embarrassed shock. “I - of course I don’t - “ His fist clenched around the cloth, but he hesitated as he stared down at his lap, shifting slightly, then freezing when Voldemort’s cock rubbed against his back.

With a sigh as if dealing with a wayward child, Voldemort took Harry’s hand in his and guided it towards the soul’s cock. It was half hard, likely already influenced by the special substance Voldemort had added to his meal.

Harry inhaled sharply at the first touch, the slightest press of their hands against him. He licked his lips, glancing back at Voldemort uncertainly. “I - I don’t think - “

“You don’t have to think, sweet soul,” the demon king laughed. “You simply have to feel.”

“But I - it’s impure - “

“Impure?” Voldemort tilted his head even as he pressed their hands to Harry’s cock once more. It twitched beneath their touch, swelling further. In his arms, Harry whimpered. “It is far from impure. It is the purest form of pleasure known to humanity - to all creatures that live and breathe, in fact. All beings were created to feel. Love, hatred, sorrow. _Pleasure_.” He crooned out the last word as he wrapped their fingers around the soul’s cock, squeezing gently before beginning to stroke.

Harry bucked his hips, a groan falling from his lips. “I - but I shouldn’t - “

“Forget what you learned before, precious Harry. What matters now is only what I tell you.” He began to stroke faster, revelling in the way Harry writhed upon his lap, head thrown back, protests slowly turning into moans as he was brought closer to the edge. “Feel this, Harry. This pleasure, this beautiful ecstasy. For it is no sin. There is no need to deny yourself.”

Voldemort knew that Harry was close. The boy’s back was arched, his face pressed to the demon’s chest, his face flushed and eyes glazed as he panted, his arm moving to Voldemort’s command. Harry was so very hard, leaking pre-come as the soul grew closer to orgasm.

Voldemort licked a trail up the smooth, golden skin of his newest soul. How sweet he tasted in his innocence, so very ripe for corruption. He pulled the boy closer, his own hardness pressing against Harry’s back. But the soul was too far gone to truly realize just how wanton he looked. How tantalizing. To realize that it was only Voldemort’s impeccable self-control that prevented him from bending the soul over and sliding inside him, ripping him apart upon his cock.

It wouldn’t be long, of course, until Voldemort could do just that. Soon he would have the soul begging for his touch, begging to be filled, stuffed full of his king.

But for now he would be patient, allowing Harry some time to adjust to his future.

Smiling, Voldemort pressed his finger to the slit of Harry’s cock. Shouting, the boy came, hips bucking, eyes rolling. And the demon king stroked him through his orgasm, eyes lidded as he watched the soul twitch in pleasure, whining as every last drop of come was wrung from him. The soul shivered, water splashing as he squirmed in protest, overstimulated from Voldemort’s unceasing motions with their hands.

“It’s too much,” Harry gasped out, and finally the demon king relented, releasing harry’s hand and letting the boy collapse into his arms.

He traced up and down the soul’s heaving chest. There was, of course, no need to breathe in hell, no need for any human bodily functions, but it would take a while for Harry to get used to it. And besides, Voldemort enjoyed hearing his desperate gasps.

Finally, when Harry had calmed, the demon king ground upwards, his large cock pressing, hot and hard, into the boy’s back. “Now, Harry,” he purred into the ear of the suddenly blushing and stuttering boy. “Since I’ve helped you with your problem, won’t you help me with mine?”

Harry squeaked as he stiffened in surprise, as if he had forgotten that Voldemort had been pressed against him this whole time. “I - “ his eyes darted up nervously to glance at the demon king’s face. “I’ve never… done anything like this before,” he said, face flushing once more. “I don’t even know what to do.”

Voldemort lifted himself to sit at the edge of the tub, out of the water. In front of him, Harry turned to face him. Large green eyes stared up at him in slight trepidation as they truly took in the size of his cock for the first time. For even diminished in this form, it was larger than humanly possible. Nor did it look human, with a thick bulge in the middle and thick ridges that bulged outwards.

“Go ahead,” Voldemort pulled Harry forward until he was flush with his cock.

Thick white pre come began to flow from the tip, and Harry swallowed before raising a hand and wrapping it gently around the base of Voldemort’s length. His fingers couldn’t touch so he used the other hand as well, squeezing slightly and doing his best to run his hands up and down the whole length.

His hands kept catching on the ridges, and Voldemort chuckled. “You’ll need to do a little better than that, Harry.”

“What else _can_ I do?” Harry frowned, embarrassed and yet determined, perhaps emboldened by his sense of justice. To give as he had so received.

Voldemort grinned. “Shall I teach you?” He reached forward as Harry nodded and grasped the soul by the hair, guiding him upwards. With his other hand he positioned his cock and pressed the head to Harry’s lips. “Open your mouth,” he murmured.

Harry did so, hesitant but obedient. His eyes widened as Voldemort pressed forward, pushing into the hot, slick mouth of his sweet soul. And oh, did it feel good to have that tight warmth wrap around him.

Though inexperienced, Harry seemed determined to fit more of Voldemort. He pressed forward, his jaw loose, his tongue pressing to the underside of the demon king’s length. His jaw worked as he swallowed the build up of pre come and Voldemort hummed approvingly.

“Such a good boy,” he praised, rolling his hips slightly.

Harry flushed and though he could not smile with his mouth so very full, he did redouble his efforts, his head moving slightly as he tried to suck and lick all around the head of Voldemort’s length.

The demon king allowed this for a few minutes more before his grip tightened in Harry’s hair. “Relax your throat. This won’t hurt if you don’t resist,” he said, the only warning he gave before he pushed forward He felt his cock hit the back of Harry’s mouth, meeting some resistance. He pressed on, and eventually it slid further, eliciting a surprised gurgle from Harry.

Slowly, inch by inch, he pressed into Harry, ignoring the way the soul’s fingers dug into his thighs, the way his eyes watered, the way he stared pleadingly up at him. “You’re doing so well,” he praised, his free hand reaching down to trace the large bulge in Harry’s throat. He pressed down slightly, enjoying the way he could feel his cock sliding under Harry’s skin, the ridges protruding further.

A muffled whimper escaped the soul, but even so, he could feel Harry’s tongue running along his cock, teasing the bumps that he could reach.

Voldemort smiled. “You’re so good to me, Harry. Think you can take the rest?”

He felt Harry attempt to nod, though with Voldemort’s cock so far down his throat, he could barely move. Still, Voldemort took it for the affirmation he was looking for, and pushed forward the last few inches, releasing a pleased sound as the last of his length disappeared between Harry’s lips.

He groaned as he rolled his hips and Harry inadvertently swallowed around him, his muscles squeezing and pressing. “So perfect,” he breathed.

And truly, Harry was so very perfect. Because while the black ichor might have stimulated Harry’s sexual desires, the way Harry was so determined to please Voldemort… that - that was all Harry.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” Voldemort said, eyes lidded as he pushed Harry’s bangs away from his eyes. The soul barely had time to register the words before Voldemort was moving, his thrusts quick and shallow, unable to resist after waiting for so long to be inside dear sweet Harry.

And how wonderful he felt, hot and waiting for Voldemort’s every move, so obedient as he knelt there, hands gripping the demon’s thighs as his mouth and throat were used - fucked - for the demon lord’s pleasure. He kept one hand in the soul’s hair, the other wrapped around his fragile neck, so that he could feel his cock moving, feel the skin stretching and bulging as he thrust.

Pleasure grew, hot within his loins as he continued to move. The room grew loud with the sound of water churning as Harry’s body jolted with each thrust. Each motion drew a slick sound from Harry’s mouth and Voldemort grunted each time Harry swallowed, each time his tongue dipped into one of the grooves along his cock.

He felt the heat build, felt his balls tighten and draw close. He was so very close.

“I’m going to come,” he said almost conversationally, “and you’re going to take it all, aren’t you?”

Harry made an affirmative noise, and Voldemort smiled.

“Good boy,” he said once more, enjoying the way Harry flushed further each time he was praised. He began to thrust faster, pushing as deep as he could go. His sudden viciousness drew choking sounds from the sweet soul, but he could not bring himself to slow down, not anymore. His grip tightened and he thrust again, again, and -

Pleasure, sinfully hot, shot through his veins as he came, pressed deep down Harry’s throat. It pulsed as large spurts of come erupted, filling Harry more, and more. Voldemort let out a deep sound of pleasure as he orgasmed, riding out the waves of pure ecstasy.

It was long moments - minutes, perhaps, before he finally fell from his high, releasing the last of its seed. Glancing down, he finally began to pull back, smirking as the soul stared up at him with wide eyes.

It was with slight reluctance that he drew out of Harry’s mouth, finally soft and spent. Not that it would take much to get hard again. He had all the energy in hell to use at his whim, after all. An endless supply that he could convert to sexual energy for his own desires.

But now was not the time. Instead he lifted the soul into his arms and brought him back into the bedroom, uncaring of the fact that neither of them had towelled off.

He lay Harry down on the bed, tracing his fingers over the slight swell of his stomach, so full he was of Voldemort’s seed. He pressed down slightly on the distended belly and received a protesting groan in return.

Relenting, he sat back with a smile. “You did so well,” he praised, and watched as Harry blushed once more.

“I didn’t realize that… um, anyone could get that big, or have that much… Um, come…” Harry said a little shyly, his voice a little hoarse. The soul placed his own hand upon his rounded belly, staring at it in slight disbelief.

Voldemort noted with pleasure that Harry was already half hard.

“Humans cannot,” Voldemort chuckled, choosing not to bring attention to the soul’s desire quite yet. “But you’re in hell now. Forget any notions you have of right and wrong, good and bad, possible and impossible.” He grinned, wide and sharp. “Well, I suppose you will learn quickly what living here will entail.”


	2. Possible, Impossible

Harry stuck close to the large demon as they wandered through the large, maze-like halls of the fortress. Most of the demons they passed called him ‘my lord’ or ‘Lord Voldemort, and Harry wondered just how important the demon was. Quite important, Harry would assume, given all the deference he was shown. He felt oddly pleased that he was allowed to call the demon’Tom’.

And thus he trotted as quickly as he could, never allowing more than a few inches to grow between them. For while Voldemort looked reasonable and not overly frightening, some of the demons that resided here were… monstrous.

Some were huge and hulking, with large fangs or claws that could rip Harry to shreds in seconds flat. Others were smaller and more slender but with faces that were made of shadows and nightmares and brought such despair upon those who looked for too long.

Unable to help himself, he reached out and grabbed Tom’s hand with his. The demon was much larger than he was, and he could only fit three of the fingers in his hand, but even so it made him feel safer. He thought he heard a demon make a noise of consternation, thought he saw another one snarl, but when he looked up at Voldemort, the demon merely smiled indulgently, saying nothing.

So Harry held on, listening as the demon pointed out the various rooms - most of which Harry promptly forgot.

And then they stepped outside.

It appeared to be a courtyard, though it was far larger than any that Harry had ever seen before. It had what could possibly be considered plants, though they were all dark and spindly, with empty branches that twisted desperately as if to escape torturous pain. Vines swayed from the stone overhangs, twining and writhing looking worryingly alive. Something that looked oddly like blood dripped from the ends and Harry edged away from one of the vines as it swung around as if to peer at him.

It was busy in the courtyard, with quite a few demons lounging. He could see human-looking figures attending to them, and wondered if that would be his fate as well. A servant forevermore. Was that worse than being brought before the demon king? Harry couldn’t quite tell.

He averted his eyes as one of the humans began to scream, writhing as it was gored upon the horn of a bellowing demon.

Voldemort chuckled as Harry stepped even closer to him. “Fear not, Harry. I will take good care of you. That will not be your fate. Unless, of course, you should so desire it.”

Harry shook his head immediately, lips pursed and hands trembling. The others at the temple had all called him brave, but Harry didn’t think he was. The mere sound of the screams made him cringe and sink into Voldemort, wishing he could fade away and never be noticed again.

“Come,” Voldemort led him up a low dais that overlooked the courtyard and beyond the fortress walls to jagged mountains and lakes of dark water. It was an ominous view, lit only by a strange swarming of darkly glowing tendrils that writhed throughout the sky.

Harry followed obediently, having no desire to rebel when amongst such dangerous beings. He skittered nervously to the side as an attendant followed them, placing a tray of food next to the large, elongated chair where Voldemort had taken a seat.

Seeing no place else to sit, Harry stood next to the demon, fingers wringing as he glanced down, hoping no one else would be joining them.

“Harry,” Voldemort said, sounding amused, “come sit.”

Harry flushed as the demon gestured to his lap. It wasn’t that Harry disliked the demon’s touch, exactly. But the feel of Voldemort’s skin against his, the feel of the demon’s cock pressed against his back…

All of it made Harry feel oddly hot. Made him shiver, made his nerves tingle, hyperaware of the powerful being. And it made his cock twitch, even though the incident in the bathroom was the first time Harry had ever experienced anything sexual.

His hand brushed absently over his stomach. It was flat, once again. The feeling of fullness was missing. It had been ever since Harry had woken from his rest. Souls - and demons - could not sleep, but they could enter a state of rest. It was regenerative, and certainly welcome in lieu of a proper sleep.

He blinked as his wrist was taken in Voldemort’s large hand, and he was pulled onto the demon’s lap, a large arm wrapping around his waist and trapping him there.

“You seem distracted,” Voldemort murmured, his large hand splaying across Harry’s chest. His fingers rested infuriatingly close to Harry’s cock and he shifted, torn between embarrassment and want. Because for his whole life he had been told that such touches were wrong - evil and immoral. And now…

Harry flushed as he remembered the feeling of pure ecstasy as Voldemort had stroked him. His cock twitched and he ducked his head. “It’s just - this is all very new to me,” he said, fixing his eyes upon his hands in an attempt to keep his thoughts pure. But lord, it was difficult when astride the lap of a naked, handsome demon.

Voldemort hummed, but did not push the subject, much to Harry’s relief. Instead, the demon picked up one of the flaky pastries on the tray next to them and brought it to Harry’s lips.

He opened his mouth without complaint. He wasn’t hungry, but nor was he full. He wondered, then, if he needed to eat at all. For if he did not need to sleep, perhaps there was little of his human requirements that remained?

Still, he enjoyed the sweet flavour as he chewed, the buttery flakes melting upon his tongue. He was fed another, then something that tasted sweet and fruity.

There was only one item that he truly desired, however. The one that was dripping in that dark syrup. He couldn’t even quite figure out what it tasted like, but he knew from the moment it had first touched his tongue that he could never get enough of it, even if he ate it every day.

He did not refuse any of the food fed to him, but he could not help the way his eyes drifted constantly to that one piece sitting so innocently upon the platter, dark and gleaming.

A hand ran soothingly through his hair and behind him Voldemort chuckled. “Such a good boy you’ve been, Harry.”

Straightening, Harry’s eyes widened in delight as the dark cake was lifted and brought to his lips. It was placed upon his tongue and he couldn’t help the moan that escaped him. Flavour and pleasure exploded within him and he melted back, his eyes closing as he chewed as slowly as possible, savouring the taste of ecstasy as it coated his tongue and slid down his throat.

He felt warm and for a moment he thought of trying to shrug off the arm that was wrapped around him, to expose himself to the cooler air, but Voldemort’s long nails were resting lightly upon his skin, seemingly harmless. But Harry knew better. This demon was powerful, and Harry was not so stupid as to try and challenge him.

“Did you enjoy that, sweet soul?” Voldemort asked, his chest rumbling as he spoke.

Harry nodded. “I did,” he said. “Thank you,” he added, partially out of gratitude, and partially out of the hope that if he continued to be good, he would be fed more.

“Very good,” Voldemort praised, and Harry couldn’t help the pleased flush that rose upon his cheeks. “It something I only gift to those who please me. And you, my dear Harry, have pleased me greatly.”

Harry ducked his head, a small smile curving his lips. His whole body was tingling pleasantly and he found himself feeling oddly relaxed.

“Still shy?” Voldemort laughed, his hand reaching around to tilt Harry’s head back. “Well, we will fix that in time.” Then he leaned forward and pressed his lips against Harry’s.

Harry’s eyes widened in shock and his lips parted as if to say something, but before he could get a word out, Voldemort’s tongue slipped in, longer and more pointed than that of a human’s. It wrapped around Harry’s tongue, then loosened its hold and delved further, to the back of Harry’s mouth, then down his throat.

Harry made a small noise, more of surprise than protest, as the demon’s tongue teased him, reminiscent of the large cock he had taken before. His eyes fluttered and his cock twitched and he felt Voldemort’s lips curl upwards against his.

Slowly the tongue was retracted, and Harry found that he rather missed it. His mouth felt oddly empty without it. Against his back he felt Voldemort’s member harden, and he flushed in anticipation and embarrassment. If Dumbledore were to ever see him like this -

The thought ended just as quickly as it began. For was it not Dumbledore who had put him in this situation in the first place? Was it not Dumbledore who had stated that he was the chosen one - the only sacrifice that could appease the demon king’s ire?

Harry’s head tilted to the side as Voldemort’s hand trailed up his thigh, leaving a wake of heat and desire. His eyes were partway lidded as his gaze fell upon one of the demons. It was moving its hips in quick, sharp thrusts, right into -

Harry jerked his head back in surprise, his eyes opening fully at the sight. What in the world was that?

“Th-they’re - “ Harry stuttered, uncaring that it was rather rude of him to be staring so. Still, how in the world could the demon fit his cock up that poor human’s ass?

Behind him, Voldemort laughed. His body shook and Harry glanced up, eyes wide and cheeks bright red. “What - but how - “ He wanted to be indignant at the way Voldemort was watching him and looking so very amused, but his shock overpowered any other feelings.

“That, dear soul, is what is colloquially called ‘fucking’.”

Harry turned back to the sight, his teeth nibbling on his lower lip. “It looks painful,” he said.

“It can be,” Voldemort said. “Some like it that way.”

Harry glanced up dubiously.

“Or it can be the most pleasurable sensation you have ever felt.” Voldemort’s hand reached Harry’s cock and gripped it, making him gasp and jerk his hips.

“Oh,” was all Harry could say as those fingers began to play wit him, dipping into his slit and squeezing him, moving in agonizingly slow strokes.

“I can show you, if you’d like,” Voldemort murmured. “You’ll enjoy it. I promise.”

Harry hesitated, eyes flicking to the way the soul was screaming as the demon moved behind him.

But Voldemort was stroking him and his long tongue flicked out to trace his ear and Harry could only shudder, feeling incredibly hot. His mind blurred for a moment as pleasure rushed through him. And hadn’t Voldemort proven not long ago that he could indeed bring Harry such ecstasy?

“Alright,” Harry agreed. Voldemort’s grip on him tightened just for a moment, before the demon spoke, low and pleased.

“Very good, Harry. Very good.”

Warmed by the demon’s praise, Harry did not protest as he was placed on his front, his ass sticking up in the air. He squirmed, feeling so very exposed, but Voldemort was caressing his thighs and his cheeks, his touch soothing even as it left trails of heat upon his skin.

Harry started as his cheeks were pulled apart, exposing his hole. He made a soft sound as a finger traced his pucker, pressing teasingly before retracting. Even just the thought of one of Voldemort’s digits inside him seemed almost impossible. The demon was just so much larger than Harry.

At first Harry had thought that the demon was only slightly taller than a human, but upon waking from his rest, the demon seemed impossibly large, as if he had grown another two feet while Harry was not looking.

Harry tensed at the thought of just how large Voldemort’s cock was. Lords above and below, the demon was going to rip him apart.

“I - I don’t - “ Harry stuttered, trying to twist around and look at the demon behind him. A sharp swat to his ass had him yelping as a stinging pain bloomed.

“Hush, Harry,” Voldemort commanded, his hand stroking soothingly over the sting. “I promised to take care of you, and I will. Or do you think I would go back on my word? Do you think me a liar, Harry?” The demon’s voice darkened, a dangerous croon underlying his words.

Harry shook his head frantically, biting his tongue to hold back any further protests.

Voldemort hummed approvingly, tone lightening once more. “Good boy. Now relax. I promised you pleasure, and so pleasure you shall receive.”

Then he leaned forward, his tongue extending from his mouth. It teased Harry’s hole, replacing the demon’s fingers. It traced the rim, pushing slightly before retreating, then returning, pushing a little more, until it slid inside, barely an inch.

Harry let out a soft breath at the new sensation. It was… odd, though not in a bad way. The tip of Voldemort’s tongue was slimmer than the rest, and turning his head slightly, Harry could see that it thickened dramatically the further up he looked. He wondered idly if Voldemort was going to try and fit the length of his tongue inside him. It looked far too long to be physically possible, and Harry wondered just how far the demon could extend it.

But -

What was possible and impossible in hell… well, Harry had no idea just how far this powerful being could defy human logic.

Harry closed his eyes and breathed deeply as the tongue pushed further, slick and hot inside him. It writhed, tracing his walls and leaving a hot tingling sensation within him. It felt…

“Oh,” Harry breathed, his eyes snapping open as Voldemort’s tongue pressed against something inside him that felt - incredible. “Oh, that - “ he cut himself off with a moan as the spot was pressed again and then again, the tongue rubbing as it moved.

Harry could help but push back, wanting - no, needing more. His fists clenched as Voldemort’s tongue delved deeper inside him, brushing against that spot as it moved further and further inside him.

One hand reached down to clutch at his stomach as he was pierced, the slick muscle moving snake-like. He swore he could feel his insides shift to accommodate so much of Voldemort.

He panted, his hips jerking as he began to feel himself stretch around the girth of Voldemort’s tongue. It had thickened until Harry swore it would be too much for him. And yet, slowly but surely, he could feel his hole accepting such an impossible size.

Possible, impossible. Harry groaned as the tongue traced along his walls, a smooth pull that felt so very wonderful. His cock leaked as it pressed against the soft fabric of the chair and he wriggled his hips, wanting, needing, more, more, _more_.

“Please,” he said, breathless with want. “Please, I - “

Voldemort paused, and Harry suddenly wished he hadn’t said anything at all. Then Voldemort’s tongue began to retreat and Harry whined, his ass clenching in the vain hope of keeping Voldemort inside him. He heard the demon make a sound of amusement, but all too soon Harry was left feeling terribly empty.

He slumped, disappointed, and glanced back to see if perhaps Voldemort was upset with him - had he done something wrong? But the sight that greeted him made his eyes widen and his breath hitch. For Voldemort was stroking his cock, the head leaking copious amounts of pre-come. He was slicking it with something that looked like oil. It glistened in the odd light of hell, and Harry wanted to run his tongue over it and lap it all up. Wanted it all inside him, swelling him as it had before.

Voldemort smiled. “You’ve been so good, Harry. And Lord Voldemort rewards those who are good.” He raised himself up, looming over Harry and casting him into shadow. His cock, large and hot, nudged against Harry’s entrance.

There was no way. No way in all of hell that it would fit.

Harry licked his lips nervously, not wishing to risk the demon’s ire, yet also rather certain that from this, he would most certainly die.

A true death, this time, by the hand of a demon.

Harry shivered, pressing his lips together as Voldemort’s cock pressed against his pucker, a gentle nudge to start, then growing more insistent, the pressure increasing as he moved his hips forward.

Harry whimpered, his body sliding forward as he did little to hold himself up. Voldemort made a noise of impatience and Harry found himself pinned by one of the demon’s large hands as it came down upon his shoulder, holding him fast against the chair. The other hand held his hips in place, and once again he began to push.

Harry held his breath as his pucker began to give way, stretching more and more around the impossible girth. He whimpered at the burning stretch. This - this shouldn’t have been possible. And yet, slowly but surely, Voldemort began to ease himself into Harry, inch by agonizing inch.

“Ah,” Harry panted, his hands scrabbling at the chair. “It’s too much. I can’t - I can’t take anymore,” he sobbed as he was filled, the demon’s cock hot and too large - too much inside him.

“Oh Harry,” Voldemort laughed. “We’ve barely begun.”

Then Voldemort thrust forward, uncaring as Harry screamed and writhed underneath him. “Please,” Harry sobbed. “Take it out - “

And Voldemort withdrew, giving Harry the chance to suck in a deep breath, before thrusting back in, even further this time. Harry’s eyes rolled back as his insides were pushed aside to make room for the demon’s cock. Thick and veined, it brushed against his prostate with each motion, and Harry sobbed in part pleasure and part agony as he gripped at his stomach, feeling it distend every time Voldemort thrust forward. He could feel the shape of the demon’s cock pressing against his skin.

He whimpered as Voldemort thrust deeper and deeper until he could press no further, his hips flush against Harry’s ass.

“Harry,” Voldemort breathed. “You’re doing beautifully, sweet soul.”

And, unable to help himself, Harry flushed at the praise, oddly pleased that despite everything, he had still satisfied the demon. He still felt too full, his body too tight, stretched around the demon’s cock. But he could also feel a strange warmth and odd pleasure as the demon moved within him. The friction against his walls was slick and beautiful, even as it burned.

And as the demon continued to thrust, his fast pace rocking Harry back and forth, the burn began to lessen and the pleasure started growing. His own cock was hard and leaking, but he could not bring himself to move his arms from around his stomach where it strained, again and again, to contain the demon’s cock.

With his cheek pressed against the chair and his body commanded by the demon above him - inside him - Harry could only moan, hot, sweet pleasure spreading through him with each thrust. And it was not much longer before Harry began to beg. _More, faster, oh please_ -

“Such pretty words, sweet soul.” Voldemort’s tongue extended, licking a trail up Harry’s back. “Did I not promise you pleasure?” And then he began to move faster, until pleasure began to blur Harry’s mind, turning his thoughts into a haze of _need_ and _want_.

“Won’t you beg again, my dear Harry? Won’t you beg your Master? Thank your lord for his kindness - his generosity?”

The words felt strange, but Harry could not deny them - not when he was filled so incredibly. Not when he was given such ecstasy.

“Please,” he cried out, feeling so close - just a little more - “Please, Master. Thank you, Master. My lord. Thank you, thank you - “

Then pleasure, fierce and hot, exploded through him and he wailed as his orgasm rushed through him, surging and roiling like molten heat, tensing his body and stripping him of all thought. There was only him. There was only his lord, buried deep inside him, bringing him everything he had promised. Bringing him pleasure as he had never before experienced. And oh how Harry revelled in the sensation. In the sweet, beautiful reward his master had given him.

He fell limp as the last of his energy left him, and he felt the demon hum. But his lord did not stop his thrusts, pushing into Harry’s oversensitive body without care even as Harry whimpered in protest. His own cock twitched feebly but he was so very spent that all he could do was lie there as he was used roughly for his master’s pleasure.

Perhaps it was minutes later, or perhaps hours - Harry could not quite tell - when finally Voldemort growled, his thrusts turning quick and shallow as his orgasm neared. “I’m going to fill you. Can you take it, Harry?”

He nodded, wanting the demon to be pleased with him. “Yes, yes master. I can - I can take it. All of it.”

“Very good,” Voldemort purred. His hips pressing forward as his cock throbbed and pulsed, the demon’s come filling him until Harry was sure he would burst. His stomach swelled and he panted as his muscles cramped, unused to having both the cock and so much come inside him.

He whined as Voldemort’s cock pulsed a final time, filling him so completely that he could barely move. Finally Voldemort released his grip upon him and straightened, his clawed hand running down Harry’s back. Then he slowly began to pull out, his length scraping against Harry’s sensitive walls for the last time.

Breath strained, Harry pushed himself up on his hands and knees, his limbs trembling in the aftershocks of too much pleasure. He made a small sound as Voldemort withdrew completely, his hole unable to clench properly. He felt a gush of come spill down his legs, and then another. Voldemort’s hand spread his cheeks, the demon watching avidly as large globs of come dribbled from his hole.

His stomach cramped again and Harry wrapped an arm around his stomach, both marvelling and feeling rather horrified at just how round it was. He tried to stand, but his legs were too weak to support himself, and he collapsed back to the ground, this time on his side. He managed to roll onto his back, his gaze blurred by tears as he looked up at Lord Voldemort. His lord his… his master.

The demon smiled, sharp teeth flashing. “You were made for this, weren’t you, Harry. Look at how well you took it all.” His hand caressed the swell of Harry’s stomach, pushing down lightly, teasingly. He laughed as Harry whimpered, trying to hold in the come that gushed from his ass. “And you loved it,” he purred, his fingers tracing Harry’s limp cock, still wet with his own come.“Didn’t you, sweet soul?” Then he dipped his fingers into Harry’s ass. They squelched as he thrust them a few times, testing just how loose and open Harry was.

And Harry could only nod, tears streaking down the sides of his face. “Yes,” he rasped. “My lord.”

Voldemort’s grin was sharp and fierce. He brought his fingers from Harry’s hole, dripping in come, and placed them between Harry’s open lips. “Good. Because this is only the beginning.”


End file.
